


Letters To You

by eagermickey



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Gallavich, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 13:28:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3383270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eagermickey/pseuds/eagermickey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I have no idea how to summerize this to be honest, I just had little ideas after listening to every la dispute song and starring out a window. I of course didn't write my ideas down so this is just a bullshit version of what I thought and it's really crappy, I'm so sorrry.</p><p>disclaimer; i tried to write this in more of a mickey pov but obviously failed i'm sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ordinary Love

The thug tapped his pen on the desk. Chewing on the cap not knowing what to write. It’s been two weeks since the ginger left to war. Hurt, angry and upset all because of a piece of paper- or at least that’s what Mickey thought. He took another swig of his Jack and started to write;

_September 3rd,_   
_Hey you. Look, I promised myself I wouldn’t write to you while you’re away but you’ve been the only thing on my mind recently so I thought I’d check up on you. We’re worried about you. Mandy and I. Svetlana mentioned you too, wanted to know why orange boy wasn’t around anymore._   
_How’ve you been? How are things going overseas? Killed anyone yet? Ya know that’s probably something I shouldn’t ask. ~~I’m sorry.~~ It’s been two weeks since you left to travel the world. Terry got in another fight. He’s heading back to the can for a few months. Maybe you’ll come home before he does and we can fuck on the couch again. Ha. Remember when he walked in on us? I shouldn’t bring that up either._   
_Come home soon firecrotch._   
_Milkovich._

He placed the pen down. Placing the note in an envelope and sealing it and filling it out. Mumbling to himself and pacing around his room smoking a cigarette. “Fucking selfish prick for leaving.” Mickey punched the closest thing in anger. He sat down on _their_ bed, listening to it creak as he did. God the thing is old. Then traced around the sheets were Ian would lay. It was his side of the bed, it was where Ian would lay and curl up around Mickey most nights. “It’s been not even two weeks. I don’t fucking miss you. We weren’t boyfriends. Just an easy lay,” the black haired boy mumbled to himself, trying to convince himself that and to hide the truth.

His wife walked in, stared at him for a bit. Then spoke. "You take baby while I go out. Take him for walk, he needs sunlight. Go now or I tell family you like to fuck tall, orange boys who are batshit crazy." Handing Yevgeny to him she walked out, towel wrapped around her leaving small drops of water on the ground where she once stood. He still hasn't outed himself to his family. Maybe he should. Maybe he shouldn't. No reason too, they think he's in love or something with the russian whore.


	2. Small Hands

A week has passed. Nothing.

_September 10th,_   
_You haven’t wrote back. Are you okay? Tell me things are okay. Please. I miss your red hair and green eyes that would light up and entire room. Yes I also miss you fucking me in case you were curious. Was all your ROTC training enough for war? ~~Being taught that humans are nothing more than a target. Sick. Just why would they teach anyone that?~~_   
_Svetlana had another baby. Sold this one. They actually took her broken condom baby. I'm surprised._   
_Come home._   
_Milkovich_

Mickey stared at this letter. Re-writing it more than once because his hand writing looked bad or because the ink got smudged cause a tear fell down his face- one that he missed. Thinking of taking out one part, because fuck did he sound like a bitch. Begging for _his boyfriend_ to come home.

Then, did his usual routine of sealing it, putting it in the mail box for the mail man to take and then chain smoking.

 

* * *

 

That night Mickey woke up in sweat, panic and a loss of breathing. His body tensed up in fear. He was shot. He witnessed it. The blood coming out of his body the redhead lying there lifeless. These nightmares seemed to come a lot lately. He didn’t want to be there when the bullet hit like he was in his dreams- hell he didn’t want to have Ian ever go through being shot. He wanted his boyfriend home, safe and in his bed smothering the dark haired boy like he used to. Lately Ian’s been the only thing consuming his mind. He breathed Ian. Dreamt of Ian. Everything. Everything reminded him of Ian. Everything revolved around Ian. These marks of him scattered around his familiar home which now didn’t feel like home with him gone. Maybe he should pick up his things and leave. But he couldn’t do that. He has a son, by law a wife that he has to protect, and a boyfriend that could come home any day now.


	3. Nobody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning; gay slurs are used

_September 15th,_  
 _The distance is killing me. Fucking write me back soon. Please. Fucking anything man. Are you even getting these?_  
 _Milkovich_.

Again continuing his routine of writing the absent boy, hoping for a response, something but only getting jack.

“You know Mick, you’re a real fucking idiot,” Mandy spat standing at his door frame, watching him scribble down words on a sheet of paper.  
“No idea what the fuck you’re talking about Mandy. You're a fucking idiot too, fucking that piece of shit. Fuck off! Don't you have dick to ride or something." He spat back at his sister. He fucking hated her "boyfriend" that she met in spite of Lip at his "wedding."  
“Yeah well don’t you? Oh wait you drove him away from home across the fucking globe to go fucking kill people in Afghanistan or some shit.” The girl flipped him off and left.  
“Fucking bitch!” He yelled as he heard her footsteps disappear in the silent house. "The fuck do you know! I'm not some fucking faggot! Fucking.. bitch..” he mumbled to himself. Maybe she was right and it was his fault. He got up, throwing the beer bottle he had near by at the wall and leaving. Didn't care where he went, just anywhere away from "home" and away from his thoughts.

* * *

 

He got a phone call later.  
"Douchebag where the fuck are you?"  
"No where the concerns you." Ready to hang up, his sister spoke again.  
"Mick, I know you're gay. Don't play dumb. Years ago when Ian would come over all the time to be with me, he would go to the bathroom for what 30 minutes? An hour sometimes? I heard you two. I'm not fucking stupid." She sighed. "Fuck I don't even care! You're my big brother. I fucking love you. Jesus don't fucking run off like Ian. I can't do this shit. Fucking come home." Her voice cracking, and silent sobs. Mickey couldn't hurt his baby sister.  
"I'm on my way. Dinner better be ready when I'm back and that fucking shitface of a boyfriend better be gone too." He hung up, and proceeded to walk to where he was going. "Remember this place Ian? I feel in love with you here." Walking down the steps into the dugout. Tracing the wall as he walked around. Standing on his toe to reach the bar that hung. "Here you showed off to me. You fucking shit." Continuing to remember everything about their time here. "I fucking love you." He took a seat, and started to rub his eyes with the palms of his hands.

_5:56 PM:_  
 _I'm going 2 b late, sorry Mands_

_Message Sent ✔_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter im sorry
> 
> then again these are all super short cause i can't write 1k words+ per chapter


	4. My Dear

“Mickey you got a letter.” Svetlana said handing it to him. “The fuck is sending you shit from army?” You can tell her English is getting better, but her thick heavy Russian accent doesn’t seem to help acknowledge that. The boy snatched it from her quickly opening it, not even looking to see if it was from Ian and trembling. He pushed Svetlana’s hand away as she tried to take it from him to read and sped walked to his room to read it in peace.

September 21st,  
I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t write? Mick we made this rule for a reason. I have a duty to do, I have a purpose in life and it’s being here protecting you, Mandy, and my family. Don't blame yourself for causing me to leave, it's not your fault. I'm sure Mandy has told you multiple times. Believe her. It wasn't your fault. I was hurt, I drove myself away.  
But, what’s done it done Mick. ~~You can’t fix that, yo-~~ you can’t fake what we had but yet you fucking did. I loved you Mickey Milkovich but I didn’t mean shit to you I get that. I was nothing more than a warm mouth to you as you once said.. I’m fine.  
Goodbye.  
Gallagher.

Mickey trembled more than he was before reading it. Face, and eyes redder than Ian’s hair. Tears starting to form. But Mickey wasn’t a cryer. He wouldn’t cry. He rubbed his eyes and proceeded to get up only to be stopped. Svetlana was standing in the doorway, staring at him.  
“The fuck do you want?”  
“Orange boy?”  
“Fuck off. I’m going out.” She replied with something in Russian but Mickey couldn’t quite care what she had to say. “I don’t know that the fuck you’re saying!” He screamed while grabbing his coat and heading out. He needed a good fuck, and something to get his mind off of Ian.

* * *

 

Instead he headed to the Alibi and grabbed a few too many drinks.  
“I like redheads ya know? Fucking carrot tops, freckles, tall, green eyes.” He exclaimed taking another shot.  
“Look Mickey I think you’ve had enough why don’t you head home? I’ll call Mandy she’ll come get you, or a cab? Something?” Kev told him grabbing his wrist. “Ian’ll come home soon.”  
“Na it’s fine I’ll find my own way home.” There was anger in his voice but he wouldn’t beat Kev to a pulp. Not here at least. Tripping over himself getting off that stool as he managed to find his way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hate this chapter lmao


	5. Ten Minutes

To say Mickey got home safe would be an understatement. Sure he didn't end up dead in a ditch anywhere, but if you call passing out in your front lawn with a black eye safe then that's you're opinion. After his bender of being away for nearly a week or two drinking his fucking feelings away practically "pulling a Frank" as the Gallagher's called it. He finally head home.

Like any normal human being, they would go and get some sleep in a real bed. Mickey? No he proceeded to tumble into the house hungover and ready to kill the next person that makes a noise. He took out his pens and papers only to start writing;

_October 5th,_   
_Call me. Please can we talk? I can fix this Ian._   
_At least let me explain._   
_Milkovich._

* * *

 

A few days have passed his phone rang. Unsure of the number he answered in hopes it was Ian. And it was.  
“You wanted to talk? You- well I got ten minutes. Make it fast.” And so he did. The black haired thug explained to Ian what happened, why he had to get married to Svetlana to protect him and how he didn’t mean to hurt him in a matter of seconds.  
“Say something. Please.” The boy mumbled while rubbing an eye with his free hand.  
“I don’t know Mick," he began to trail off. "I acted on impulse, I was upset. I can't just pack up my shit and leave cause my boyf- guy I've been fucking apologized." Stopping himself short before he could drop that word on Mickey. They weren't official, no. They were nothing more than fuck buddies. That's all.  
“I understand.” Mickey said lowly. “But I’m still going to write to you, to keep you updated? Will you at least write back, or even call when you know you’ll be home- back? Something? Anything?” Home slipped. This wasn’t Ian’s home anymore. Over there was home for him. It’s been about a month now.  
“I. Don't. Know.” Punctuating every word so Mickey would get the message.  
“Okay.” The Milkovich boy's voice got softer.  
“Is that all?”  
“I-I mis- no that’s all.”  
“I do too Mick.” The boy miles away knew what Mickey meant. “I’ll see you eventually. Keep writing.” And Ian hung up. Leaving Mickey with the dial tone in his ear. He didn’t know whether he should cry because he’s happy he heard Ian’s voice, happy to know he’s alive and okay, or cry because he misses Ian and he can’t stay it out loud without choking up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i also hate this chapter  
> i actually hate this story but it'll actually all written so i might as well just post all of it.
> 
> p.s. i have no idea if when you're stationed away if you get to call or anything i don't know  
> so role with it.


End file.
